Not Okay
by AgentGraves
Summary: Post Yamatai - Lara is prosecuted for her involvement on the island. And takes things less than well... Lara X Sam
1. Chapter 1

Wired. That's what it was, I felt wired and with every pump of my legs against the ground, every beat of my heart slamming in my chest I became more so. Adrenaline surged in me the way it had on Yamatai and I relished it. Dozens of lights flashed rapidly in the trees, frantic and searching. I did my best to evade them for what felt like miles. Every part of me knew this was real, they were coming for me this time. It wasn't a flashback, a dream or paranoia.

Everything around me blurred at the realization they were now close enough to be shouting directly at me. "You have exactly 5 seconds... to drop to the fucking ground Croft... or I will put you in it." A sprinting commander shouted through panting breaths. The sound of automatic weapons being readied was cacophonous. I'm surrounded.

_Shit._ _No choice now._

I slam on the breaks. My ankles digging painfully into the forests slightly damp turf as I skid to a halt, spinning on my heel in a crouch to examine my predicament. It's so dark, and they're masked. Of course they're masked. They surround me instantly guns leveled steady and lights blinding any hope I might have at an accurate body count. There are at least twelve from the look of it, and the sound of sirens far off and dogs snarling and barking their way to the front line begins to make me panic. Four of them approach me, slowly and with weapons slightly shaking. I notice and shudder calculating how many of them I must have taken down before I fled. I can't remember. And the thought alone terrifies me to momentary inactivity. "Just relax."

I snap back to reality again. One of them is close now, the other three with weapons still on me. A small army of police around them on radios, snapping photos, or simply fucking staring at me. He pulls his ski mask off and I can see his face. He's old, old for a field agent and I immediately recognize with terrifying familiarity the heavy look in his eyes. "This doesn't have to be hard." His voice low and threatening. I moved backwards on instinct and he stopped moving. Standing straight he holstered his weapon. Though I'm keenly aware of the other 15 or so barrels aimed directly for my head. "Get on your knees." With conviction this time... "And put your hands behind your head."

I didn't see options. I was exhausted, aching and I could feel the stitches in my side pulling loosely against my freshly opened skin. The pain had been idle through the adrenaline rush but now amidst this finale it seemed to all come crashing back. I fell more onto my knees than got on them. And my hands raised carefully above me to rest on the back of my head. I raised my chin to look into the face of the man now staring at me, statuesque. He didn't flinch in expression. He was as dead as I felt now, and we peered into each others soulless eyes before I felt the prickle of human hands on my wrists, prying them back and down to fit into the hand cuffs I could now hear him removing. And just like that I broke again.

Before I knew what I was doing my arm snapped back faster than he could anticipate and hard enough to send him sprawling backward into unconsciousness. My elbow instantly ached and I gaped at him for a split second pondering what I had just done. The moment I turned back the wind fled my lungs before I could blink. My back hit the ground and a whole fresh wave of pain surged through every limb. I opened my mouth to cry out but no sound came. My nails dug into the fabric of the jacket of the man now pinning me to the ground. His icy eyes now enraged. I pushed against him desperately but with no oxygen I couldn't shake his weight. He leaned back momentarily and I took advantage and headbutted him straight in the nose. His howl inspired shouts from the other officers now circling us but not risking a shot.

He reared back suddenly his fists clenched and nose dripping heavily with blood. The next thing I knew was in more pain, new pain. I don't know how many times he hit me, all I could do was endure it. It hurt, but I didn't care. My mind settled on the finality of my situation, and I couldn't think of anything else. I would either be arrested or die here. Either way I'd leave her.

"Sam..." I whimper her name just as his fist slams into my jaw yet again. I bite hard into my tongue and stain the ground with my blood. I fight to stay awake, the image of her so clear in front of me it's as if shes standing there, looking down at me pitifully. "I'm so sorry." I whisper, my eyes locking onto hers. I'm afraid to close them, I'm afraid if I do I'll never see her so clearly again. But I can't... Another impact and my eyes roll back, I can't feel anything anymore. I let the darkness take me.


	2. Chapter 2

Hand cuffs... I thought as I tried to decipher what was real. My hands and feet were bound, I tested my restraints but it only ended in a rather pitiful whimper. My shoulders burn, my arms pulled awkwardly behind me. I must have been asleep for a while.

"Oh look whose awake." I hear a male voice. His tone the same as the man in my... dream? I didn't know where I was, and the throbbing in my head spun the world out of focus.

"Have a good sleep?" I winced at the sound of his metal chair slide across stone, he was towering above me now but my distracted eyes wouldn't let me see his face. "Did you really think..." his tone was dark now, as he made to sit on the edge of the table I faced. "That you could just assault six officers..."

_Assault... he said assault not kill... that's a good sign... I didn't kill anyone... I could have... shit six... maybe I should be here, maybe they should lock me up._

"Miss Croft." My eyes tried desperately then to take in his features, their gaze softening now to the harsh lights. His hair was dark and his eyes... I knew his eyes. He stood a tower of man, lean and muscled, his eyes peering, calculating and judging me. In the light his features were sharper, I surmised he was in his mid 40's. "I know you've been through a lot."

_No shit._

My demeanor clearly shifting as he leaned back defensively, even though I was handcuffed quite securely to a chair. "Listen..." he whispered tilting his face down. "I need information from you... these charges, not to mention your little escapade last night, could easily land you behind bars for the rest of your life." He paused, looking sternly at me.

"I see you and don't think shit went down the way the press is saying it did. I see you and your sc-" he stopped suddenly, nervously and continued after a fake cough. "your scars. And that look in your eyes. You may be a killer Croft, but I doubt you did what you did unprovoked."

I felt myself soften to him a bit. Less than 24 hours ago this man was on top of me, beating me unconscious. Now I'm sitting before him, handcuffed to a chair and I can't help but like him a bit. He was right after all. Ever since we had come home it had been a non-stop shit-storm of media attention. It had barely been a month and I'd been hounded by every agency in the damn world for an interview. I turned them all down. I didn't want to talk about it. Paparazzi found me none-the-less. I was bombarded by cameras and microphones every time I set foot outside. It was impossible to stay calm. Every time I felt my body go into overdrive. And every time I fled as fast as I could to avoid doing something I would very seriously regret.

All of this of course prompted gossip, and gossip is rarely of the good kind. I was quickly made into a monster. Some kind of soulless killing-machine. I was never addressed by the police upon arrival, other than the vague recounting Sam gave them at the hospital when we first arrived. They had no _real_ idea what had happened there. But with all the attention, groups began to form, I'm not sure what to call them, activists they call themselves. They demanded I be tried for my crimes. From there... I don't know, I guess the police took attention.

"Lara..." His voice pulled me from my thoughts, he was also getting a bit too familiar. The edge he had before seemed softer now, and I suddenly feel played. He seemed genuine but that's what made me wary. I can't trust anyone anymore. He leaned in close, a bit too close. "I understand you..." he all but whispered in my ear and I felt my heart stop.

I could see his face above me, grinning down at me as he dangled a torch in the face of the woman I love. I could feel the blood pour down my face and burn my eyes, stain my skin. The fear in her eyes in that moment broke me, and I've never felt such a pure and utterly devastating despair before. I was going to lose her, I failed and because of that she was going to die. And I'm going to watch her.

"Fuck you." I hissed out. And slammed my eyes shut, willing myself not to go back to that moment. I could feel myself panicking but couldn't do a thing about it. My pulse was _pounding_ in my throat and I could hear my heartbeat wildly in my ears. I tried to focus on anything but nothing worked, I was vaguely aware of his concern but I couldn't hear him, I could barely see, and I certainly couldn't breathe. _Breathe, I have to breathe come on Lara..._

I was drawing deep gasping breaths, sweating and dangerously close to tears. I shut my eyes again focusing on the one thing that could pull me back from that place. _Sam..._ her beautiful face settled in my mind and for the first time, when I inhaled, I got air.

It took minutes to regain composure. When I opened my eyes he was staring at me, a worried expression full of what looked almost like sympathy. And I hated myself at that moment. I almost killed this mans friends and co-workers... and now sitting with me he realizes I'm so fucked up that he feels bad for me...

I broke his gaze almost instantly. I couldn't bear it. He walked to me with some reluctance in his step. He placed a business card on the table, and slid it very slowly in front of me. "You're going to need my help. And please believe me when I say I want to give it. Just think about it, and I'll be in touch."

He turned on his heel and left. I opened my eyes and starred forward, locked in a contest with the door. I pulled subconsciously at my restraints, sturdy metal links kept me in place, the motion hurt but I didn't care. I cursed inwardly. This wasn't Yamatai, there was no escape here. They could lock me in a cage here and throw away the key, no one would ever know. All except...

I felt hot tears sting my eyelids. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry.


End file.
